The last flight of Goa's birdman

Indian wildlife lost a most passionate and effective advocate earlier this week, when Carl D'Silva breathed his last. It is a big loss for the entire country, but particularly felt in Goa, where D'Silva quietly mentored an entire generation of fervent birdwatchers and self-taught naturalists. All the while, he continued his extraordinary work as one of the premier wildlife artists of the world, an important field where he was unchallenged in India.
Carl D'Silva was a living link to the toweringly great naturalists of the 20th century, particularly Salim Ali (whose name was given to the Chorao bird sanctuary - perhaps now it can now be changed to honour his Goan colleague). Like his mentor, D'Silva was a complete, expert naturalist - he trapped and banded specimens, nursed sick birds and animals by hand, took meticulously detailed notes about his observations, drew and painted birds and animals with an eye to highly specific scientific detail. When Salim Ali's classic 'Book of Indian Birds' was re-issued for the ornithologist's birth centenary in 2002, it was Carl D'Silva who re-did the illustrations.
Born in Caranzalem, raised in Mumbai, D'Silva attended the JJ School of Art. Soon after graduation, he joined the storied Bombay Natural History Society as its staff artist. Now he spent time traveling across India on ecological expeditions, learning all the aspects of field studies from the finest exponents from around the world. By the 1990's, D'Silva was internationally renowned for his ultra-realistic, wonderfully detailed drawings and paintings of Indian birds. He was the first (and still the only) Indian selected by the UK-based Wildlife Art Consortium, and his work began to be collected in Europe.
Just like D'Silva's artworks will live on in the guidebooks used by countless birders, he also had a profound effect on future generations of wildlife (especially bird) enthusiasts in Goa. He had something of a 'rara avis' aspect to his presence - like Salim Ali he was an impossibly slight man, with a beak-like nose. He slipped unobtrusively through life, as also the wild, seeing everything but making no fuss, then pouncing hard where he thought he could make a difference. In his home state, he did manage to have an immense impact.
Parag Rangnekar is one of the younger Goans for whom D'Silva's constant presence meant everything. He says, "Carl was the first State Co-ordinator for the Indian Bird Conservation Network for the State and also one of the founders of the Goa Bird Conservation Network in 2002-03. He motivated and pushed us youngsters to drive this initiative, the results of which we are seeing today in the form of a vibrant community of over 1000 members. He was the patriarch to whom we would go to for advice."
According to Rangnekar, "His artwork spoke to you. It was not only a bird that he painted but its perch, habitat, and behavior. Most of his artwork was inspired from real life experiences, which he was fond of narrating. Each of his artwork had a story behind it. He was an artist who had seen, observed, touched, felt, experienced his subject and all of that reflected in his artwork. I hope the future generation gets to see his work and get inspired."
D'Silva was always ready to attest that Goa is a very special place for birdwatchers - a tiny state that nonetheless features an extraordinary biodiversity complex extending from the thick jungles of the Western Ghats through riparian backwaters to the Arabian Sea. As Rahul Alvares points out in his excellent 'Birds of Goa' (a collaboration with Heinz Lanier), "you could travel from one side to the other side of Goa in less than two hours by car, yet it has a bird list of more than 470 species. Compare that with all of Australia, which has about 800 species!"
A few years ago, this writer clambered a hillside, following ungainly in Carl D'Silva's nimble footsteps, shadowed by Parag Rangnekar, who kept falling to his knees to photograph butterflies (a fine guide to the Butterflies of Goa resulted). Then the vista we sought opened up, with hundreds of migratory ducks from Iran and other parts of Central Asia feeding busily on a lake, right in the middle of Tiswadi. The great birdman of Goa kept his eyes owlishly glued to his binoculars. He was counting. Then he raised those eyes in disappointment - there were less than the previous year. Perhaps it is best Carl D'Silva will not be here to witness the continued decline of his beloved environment.
(The author is a widely-published writer and photographer)